Life As A Returned Peace Corps Volunteer (RPCV): Stop and Smell the Roses

I returned to America close to four months ago... so... that's weird. 

I have been meaning to sit down and write ( process) the end of my service and re-adjustment for about 6 months now. Yet, unlike the first big adjustment at the start of service, returning home and re-adjusting was nothing like the fantastically foreign experience from 2 years prior, it was far more nuanced. I didn't feel like Dorothy in Oz anymore but I felt similarly exhausted, naked and exposed. I understood the words coming out of everyone's mouths around me, but felt that I was speaking another language and generally not understood. Again, there was no greater comfort than the voices (and eventual presence) of my fellow PCVs. I wasn't a stranger in a strange land; I was in the homeland and people felt more ridiculous, judgmental, ignorant and fearful than I'd left them. 

We were told to be patient with ourselves during re-adjustment, to give it and ourselves time. They reminded us that we were changed and while we might have some consciousness of our differences, they would be felt in a wholly different capacity. It was emphasized that while folks would inquire about service, they in truth didn't care to hear the entirety of your experience. All of these things have proven true and it has admittedly been an uphill battle to feel simply normal and good. A recurring theme in conversations that I've had with other returned volunteers is how re-adjustment has mostly just been a numb experience. Things that we'd expected to be awesome and amazing don't have quite the glitter and glow we'd imagined. In a way it feels like the same old same old from before we left - and it is. 

So, I want to again remind my fellow re-adjusting babies of some things.

You just accomplished something amazing and unique, don't forget it! The next time somebody casually says, "I don't think I could/would ever do that," bask in the pride that you did. In the midst of a low day, do something you could not while in service whether it's going to the movies, or choosing an intricate meal to make and taking your time in the grocery store picking out all of the ingredients. In the last few months I have been guilty of sitting around, doing nothing and feeling poorly about my current place in life many, many, many times. I even went so far as to ask my mother if people thought I was a loser... then I proceeded to tell our neighbor that I felt like one - to which she responded incredulously. Yet, it's hard not to feel like one when living back with your parents, jobless even when I just accomplished something amazing. 

If you feel like you need a vacation from your vacation ( if unemployed like me) go and take it. Call a volunteer that you feel knows and understands you well. One of the most frustrating feelings upon return is the continued isolation. After having been an outsider for two years, often misunderstood and or not understanding the things around you, to have this continue in a similar but much more complex way is rather difficult. Get out of the house and do something with yourself, spend time with friends, or simply make plans to go see friends. I know that this seems so obvious and simple, but it really isn't. If the disappointment that America, while insanely abundant in food and comfort, and comfort food, is somehow not the glorious thing you'd been counting down the days for - make it so. 

Remind yourself that you went without some of the simplest things for so long. Next time you're driving, remind yourself,  "I'M DRIVING! I GET TO DRIVE MY OWN PERSONAL VEHICLE WITHOUT BREAKING ANY RULES!" Notice how smooth the ride is, think about the (at times) painfully nauseating roads we've left behind. Then take a look down at your shoes, when was the last time you were worried about their cleanliness?! Remember the layer of dirt that practically covered our entire lives?! I absolutely love no longer being concerned with the dirt on my shoes, LOVE IT. Once you've smiled to yourself at this simple, yet amazingly liberating notion, take solace in the fact that you are an American surrounded by other Americans, who don't give a single fuck about what you're wearing (except maybe if you wore that t-shirt for the last 3 days - this, my friend, you need to change), how you style your hair, whether or not you live alone, what you do with your free time, and what member(s) of the opposite (or same) sex you may or not be having relations with. How awesome, so many things we no longer have to be conscious of!

Try to do as many anonymous things as you can in a week and take satisfaction in that. Do whatever it is you feel like doing but go out and do something.  Next time you're in the grocery store, if feeling overwhelmed by the amount of choices remember that you can try something new every. single. goddamn. time. It would take you months to try all of the different selections, realize this and rejoice in it. Go outside and lie down on a patch of grass in a park, do whatever you want there. The next time you buy beer or wine, or whatever is your drink of choice remember that we have this great selection of tasty alcoholic beverages (though, MY GOD, the cost of them). If you're on the job search grind and find yourself more and more defeated every time you don't hear back, take a step away from your computer for an hour. Go outside or to a coffee shop or wherever you feel best able to connect. Take note of your surroundings, of your freedom, breathe in deeply with your eyes closed and remember: 

For two years you were giving it all you had, making it work, learning to be okay when many things were not, constantly having to let major and minor irritations go because there was nothing you could do. Now, you are in a place where you can mold your life, your surroundings, your relationships, and your work into a balance that both fulfills and contents you. Deeply acknowledge what a great privilege this is, remind yourself of all the other folks without this. America is a great place because you truly can do, say, and think however you please. Make yourself happy and don't ever forget what you purposefully went without so that when it came back into your life, it would be that much more meaningful. 

And, also, you're beautiful, special and I love you. 

Kisses and such,

Carol 

Less Than Three Months ( I'm still turning 27 after 2 years)

Here I sit with my 2nd sunburn of the warm season feeling more refreshed and lighthearted than I have in months. Winter has a way of creeping into your bones and this winter was one of the harshest the Armenians have claimed to see in a while. Yesterday my site mate Lauren came over to help me do some spring cleaning. We moved one of the soviet hammocks out to the 'patio' which in reality is the roof of the wood shed and we then hung an actual hammock on the upper bars of this contraption.

A week or so after writing my last post, I was very seriously considering ETing (Early Termination to end Peace Corps service prematurely). For a full week I started to make my plans, make up my mind. It was yet another low point, yet another bought of the blues. The reality which I will return to had finally hit me, knocking me right off my feet, gasping for air. I've always had the safety net of at least two or three girlfriends still living with their parents in our hometown of Babylon, NY. Knowing that I had dear friends to spend time with during my transition period at home was always a huge comfort and relief. I could ease the embarrassment I felt at having to return home and the anxiety at sharing a roof (and rules) with my parents. It made me feel like I wasn't alone in my place, my path.

Yet, since having struck out for Armenia very much has changed in life back home. Sure, people are mostly the same but that moment of youth has passed entirely. In Babylon there is a small tendency to hold on to that moment, to linger in its sunlit caresses. Growing up near a beach and spending summers working around or near the beach or pool on the bay, a person unwittingly becomes attached to that feeling. A feeling nearly indescribable but for those who were there alongside me, they know. Perhaps it is akin to omnipotence or immortality. Ironically, here I am feeling more sentimental about my teenage years than I have in years (because let's be real I am not THAT old) and yet it has been more so during my time in the Peace Corps that I've become fully aware of my youth, the fact that I am young and I have so much ahead of me.

I left America two years ago, certain that upon my return I would have everrrrything figured out. I would have a man, a job and a vision for my life. I don't really have any of those things fully, perhaps pieces of them. I recall preparing to leave and writing a post about this age-anxiety, focusing on the fact that I would be 27 when I returned- 27!!!! My Aunt Jeanie commented on the post saying, "No matter what, you'll be 27 in two years", and she was absolutely right. Time is going on out ahead of us in a whirlpool motion and struggling against the current, against the natural flow is a fools waste of energy.

Things are going to be different when I return home and I suppose that was always going to be true. My brothers and my girlfriends were all going to move into the next phase of their young adulthoods. My fervent desire to return home early a few weeks ago was an attempt to not feel as though I had missed this passing moment, the change in seasons, the turning of the page. As a romantic I yearn for these moments of culmination. As I told my friend's mother recently, I rather enjoy feeling my feelings and respect ceremonious events when it is the time to sit and reflect - to feel all the moments come up to that one and then go on like all the rest. My realization that this moment had come and gone without me for so many of my friends and would soon happen with my brother, my childhood companion and best friend, was like a slap in the face. I wanted to run home and be there in that moment in an effort to prevent it from happening at all. As if watching him cross the stage at his law school graduation was going to make it suck any less when he moves to California a week later. As if we hadn't already both grown up and began to walk separate paths.

Ok, I'm rambling here and losing the thread in a bout of sentimentality. What I am trying to get around to saying is that I can acutely feel this page turning, I just didn't realize it previously. Being so far away from everyone after so long is only just hitting me. When I first arrived in May 2012 I felt so homesick and was very aware that I wasn't at home.  After 23 months in Armenia I don't think about it so much; I found a way to cope and I've been riding the wave, aware in a very objective way how very far away I am, how disconnected. Now as the time comes for me to return home I am again aware of the distance and the disconnect. It's a little scary and unsettling, I had thought ripping the band aid off early would abate the pain but I know now it's more important that I feel my feelings over here, just like I have been for the last two years. I still have the mountains, the long marshutni rides, the summer dusk and the love of friends that aren't so new anymore. Friends that are going to be the only ones who know what I'm talking about when I reminisce in the future.


So...I have been here for two full years... when did that happen?


Songs In My Head: Philip Philips- Gone, Gone, Gone
Mumford & Sons - Hopeless Wanderer

One of the Good Ones

A post about an Armenian that makes me feel like I can stay…

Admittedly, my posts have been infrequent as I find it difficult to put finger to key board and write happy things when I’m not happy. Winter has come and with it seasonal depression. I am homesick for my family (in all of their madness) around the holidays. I am sad that I will miss my niece’s 5^th birthday and it breaks my heart that she’s been asking me if I will come and visit her. Few people truly like winter and the constant roller coaster of emotions as a volunteer don’t help. Yet, today I am inspired to write about a person in my life who soothes my anxiety and makes me feel truly welcome.

Movsisyan in Siranush's house taken with Photobooth

The first time that I met Movsisyan (this is the name by which I know and refer to her but her first name is actually Satenik) was in Siranush’s kitchen during my very first visit to Malishka. I was having my first “ Oh my GOD, what have I done?!” moment as a Peace Corps trainee. The saint that she is, Siranush sensed this and ordered me to lay day and rest after an hour or so into our first meeting. When I finally summed up the courage to leave the room that was to become mine in a month or so, I headed straight for the kitchen. As I entered the kitchen, Movsisyan and Siranush momentarily stopped dinner preparation to welcome my arrival.

Movsisyan’s deep-set eyes examined me with a well-intentioned curiosity.  She reminded me of photographs of my maternal great grandmother with long salt and pepper hair pulled up into a tightly wound bun. Just as many other older women in Armenia, over the years she had collected a mouth full of shiny gold teeth. She pulled out a stool from under the table and ordered me to sit. She cleared an open space in front of me rearranging the surface crowded with peppers, tomatoes, onions, garlic, salt, pepper, sugar, coffee, miniature Turkish coffee cups and a large decorative glass bottle that I could only assume was filled with homemade vodka. Siranush placed in front of me a small cup of Turkish coffee, seemingly from out of nowhere.  I sat in silence, allowing the calm of the home’s hearth to wash over me in a dream like state.

“Do you like tomatoes?” Movsisyan inquired. “Yes, I like them very much,” I responded like a small child and not the 25-year-old woman that I was. “Good, because we are making a soup with tomatoes, potatoes and onions,” she stated. For the next twenty minutes I intently watched her prepare the meal with Siranush. Her hands moved methodically wielding the knife like an extension of her own body. Cutting boards are not something you can expect to be found in an Armenian kitchen. Using sharp knives half the size of an average utensil women hold the vegetable in one hand and cut with the other. Preparing food in this way comes so naturally that while I sat and watched Movsisyan’s hand, she stood watching me watch her. Every now and then our eyes would meet, her calm and piercing stare  reassuring me that I was okay and everything would be okay.

From the beginning I have appreciated Movsisyan’s ability to speak with her eyes. Not only does she speak with them, she analyzes, contemplates and understands with them as well. While I understand that this is true for most people she does it in a way that a spectator can notice. With all of the staring and looks that I endure on a daily basis you come to know all sorts of stares. The difference between a kind and a cruel one, one of judgment and another of compassion is evident. When she looks at you she is truly looking at you, drinking in all of your movements, expressions and reactions like a foreign cocktail. She swishes the combination of these things around in her mind deciding if it brings her pleasure or not. 

She was introduced to me as the family 'tatik' (grandmother) but I learned later that she in fact was not a blood relative. Armenians are quick to give friends family denotations whether it be ‘sister’, ‘brother’ or ‘grandma’ and ‘grandpa’. I also learned that Movsisyan was the ‘master’ (homeroom) teacher of the twin sisters Hasmik and Anna. She had been their ‘homeroom’ teacher since the third grade and the relationship is a different than that which we are accustomed to in America.  Your master teacher, if unchanged from the third until the 12^th grade becomes an equally respected, feared and loved figured as that of a parent. Movsisyan and Siranush became close when Siranush returned from her University studies in Yerevan during the ‘Dark Time’ to begin teaching Armenian language classes at the school. Being her senior by at least twenty years and an Armenian language teacher herself, Movsisyan took Siranush under her wing forging an invaluable relationship of trust and support.

I have forever felt grateful for both women extending this relationship toward me. Social politics at the school can at times be similar to walking a tight rope. One wrong move and then a long fall (hopefully) to your safety net. This past year at school has been particularly difficult for me in the social/political realm. A person whom at first meeting I was weary of has made a point of being an antagonist in my life. Details are unimportant but the presence of this individual is a thing I at once fear and dread. When things came to a head a little over a month ago it brought me to a new level of low concerning feelings of isolation and community integration.

In the school there is a small room tucked away on the second floor, far from the teacher’s lounge and Director’s office called the language cabinet. In it, the senior Armenian language teachers including Movsisyan and Siranush each their lunch, drink coffee, grade papers and socialize in there with the other language teachers. I have realized that when I first came to the school and Siranush told me to treat this room like it was a space for me as well that I wasn’t fully aware of the privilege that I had been afforded. This small cabinet has become my refuge in the school. It dawned on me one day that only Movsisyan and another elderly woman spent their free periods in there. It was clear to me that my counterparts did not feel it was appropriate for them to casually hang out in there, while that is exactly what I do.

As of late Movsisyan has been extra careful to make me feel included and cared for. If she is making herself a cup of coffee or tea, she makes one for me as well. If she has brought some cheese and lavash to snack on, she will make me a small wrap and tell me to eat. She never asks how I’m doing and yells at me when she doesn’t believe I am dressed warm enough. After being sick and missing school for a few days she inquired where I’d been and why I didn’t tell anyone I was sick because I can’t just let people sit around and worry that I’ve been stolen or got lost. All of these things combined have served to shine a bright spotlight onto Movsisyan’s kindness and her role in my life here.  To say it shortly, she means a lot to me and has been a huge influence on my time here. 

Movsisyan is one of the good ones and I love her for all that she provides me. 

Busy Bee

This past week has been one of the more productive since the end of Border2Border. I am almost certain that the National Poetry Contest grant completion report is finished. I am keeping my fingers crossed though, as there's something new required every time I turn around. Meanwhile, I have gathered together a team of volunteers to start work on the 2014 Contest. I am so excited to take this project to the next level. As the chairperson (or Boss, as I like to refer to myself) I have the great pleasure of 'nay-ing' and 'yay-ing' ideas. I am going to give a big shout out to a fellow TEFL volunteer Erica Vendetti right now, as her professionalism and enthusiasm thus far has already greatly exceeded my expectations.  You should just see the meeting minutes she sent me yesterday...

Big Daddy Ararat in the background.

Over the next couple of weeks, things are going to start gearing up significantly. This year I am hoping to have the Poetry Context grant live by Thanksgiving. If you are thinking 'have the grant live - what does that mean?', let me explain. As a Peace Corps Volunteer I am not allowed to directly receive funds for projects. To get around this, there is a special grant opportunity (though the word 'grant' is misleading) which allows a volunteer to fund-raise officially through Peace Corps. Essentially, I write an almost identical grant application as the one which is not a fundraiser and it gets sent to both staff here in Armenia and in Washington, D.C. It is then either approved or not; when it is approved Headquarters will put it 'live' on their official website (where some of you may have visited for last year's project). From there, the volunteer is fully responsible for insuring that the money is raised. Friends, family and interested organizations can visit this temporary website to donate to the project. Only once the total amount of money is raised do the funds get handed over to the volunteer. Are we on the same page now? So like I was saying, I want that puppy live by Thanksgiving so that come Contest day there are no money problems.

Phi Baby Jan

The day before the A21 Swearing In Ceremony  I went on a day trip to Lake Sevan. I wasn't exactly prepared for swimming, so I had to suffer through this great yearning for a couple of hours while tanning on the shore line. On the way back to the city, there was a beautiful sunset hitting Mount Ararat. Unfortunately, I didn't have my good camera with me so please forgive the picture quality. I also got an opportunity to spend some time with my beloved friend, Phi. 

Cameron and I at a cafe in Yerevan.

Here in my region of Vayots Dzor, we officially have three new volunteers. There is both an older woman and young man in the nearby town of Vayk,  and another young woman in Yeghegnadzor with the existing volunteers. On Wednesday, they took the Peace Corps Oath and graduated from trainees to volunteers. As tradition, we all gathered at a cafe for drinks as a large group. Here is a picture of my new site-

mate and I... as you can tell we will get along fabulously.  

There is a lot of decision making to be had before my friend Ari arrives in country so that I can give her my complete undivided attention. She lands in Yerevan on Monday the 19th, only 10/11 days away! I am seriously looking forward to showing her around. GAH!

In other news, my dear friend Kaitlin was able to send out a letter, a very belated birthday card and a second beaded necklace that I will wear as a bracelet. I realized that of all the people very close to me, she is the only one I wasn't able to see when I was home back in December. In light of this fact, receiving mail from her means more to me. (Brittany, the same goes for you). I was happy to know that she's been reading the book I sent to her, 'Untethered Soul' - which my brother Andrew sent to me back in November. Coming home from the capital to find some love waiting for me was exactly what I needed.

We are always together in spirit!

Summer Unplug-ish

Well, well, well. My efforts to remove myself from the outside are and were not as solid as originally planned. I never expected that the grant report I was working on would require so much communication with my advisors and supportive friends. Unfortunately, my version of Microsoft Office is not compatible with the format and therefore I had to travel into the capital where our Peace Corps Office is so that I could put all the required information into the form. There were some other complications and hiccups, plus the beer at lunch time helped none for motivation. I ended up staying at a friend's for the night so that I could finish work the next day. Now, all I need to do is collect all necessary documents and receipts and send that bad boy in to staff. Yay for a completed project!! (In case you were wondering, this report is for the National Poetry Contest that took place back in May).

While to my great embarrassment I have been checking Facebook and gmail daily, then yesterday I spent two hours gchatting with girlfriends at home, I still have been getting things done that I sought out to do when the Unplug was planned. Most important among those things is spending more time with community members here in Malishka. One of my goals for Year 2 is to spend more time socializing with Armenians, not saving my social hours for Americans. It will also continue helping my language along. Speaking of, I have had a lot of funny language incidents recently.

One came with my little boyfriends who will be in the 5th grade next year ( they have the naivete and energy of boys entering the 3rd grade in America...). My neighbor's son Tigran will come over my house nearly everyday and occasssionally his friend Eric will join him. They enjoy using my electric fly swatter and playing 21 questions. Typically, once I shoo them away they will come barreling up the stairs one last time, just for the thrill of getting yelled at when they reach the top. Once they're really on their way out, they will break roses off the bush in my front yard and shoot them into the kitchen window with Tigran's hand made bow and arrow; which I might add, is pretty impressive...now making me suspicious of who actually made it...anyway, I digress.

The boys love to meet other volunteers who come through town and were particularly infatuated with a boy from Chicago for his desirable good looks (blonde haired, blue eyed boys are admired by all for their Caucasian beauty) and athleticism. Last week, when Eric returned from a little vacation with his family, he and Tigran came for their usual visit. I hadn't seen Eric since the Border2Border team was staying at my house so we had a lot of catching up to do.

But first, a quick lesson in language. In Armenian, if you want to indicate that a person or thing is in a certain location, you add "oom" (ում) to the end of the place. For example, if I wanted to tell my family that I was in Yerevan, not Malishka I would say: "Yes Yerevanum em, hima. Malishkaum chem." (I am in Yerevan, now. I'm not in Malishka). Ok, hopefully you can understand that. I will now give a transcript of my conversation with Eric.

Eric: "Ms. Caroline - do you have a place in Chicago?"
Me: "In Chicago?" (Having not understand that 'chikagoyum', pronounced with a hard 'ch' sound instead of the 'sh' Americans use, was indicating in chicago, thinking instead that it was an object).
Eric: "Yea, you know - like your friends."
Me: "Uh, I don't know Eric."
Eric: "UGH, IN CHICAGO, DO YOU HAVE A PLACE? IN CHICAGO!? IN CHICAGO?!"
Me: "What is this word, I don't know this word 'chikagoyum'... what is it, can you explain?"
Tigran: "ERRRRIIIC, she doesn't understand. But she's from New York."
Me: (Beginning to pick up the gist) "Eric, are you asking me what state I'm from?"
Eric: "Yes. No. I mean, do you have a place in Chicago!?"
Tigran: "No, my brother, she is from New York. Her parents live there."
Eric: "Yea, brother, but does she have a place in Chicago?"
Tigran: "Oh my god, Eric, you're an idiot."
Me: "Ok, Eric, say this word again I will find out what you mean."
Eric: "Chi-ka-go-yum."
Me: "Alright, I'll ask someone."
Tigran: "Ms. Caroline, did you call Kevin yet? I want him to bring us an electric fly swatter like yours, so call him - okay? OKAY?!"
Me: "Yea... I don't know Tigran, maybe. Alright, goodbye youse, I have work to do."
Tigran and Eric: "AAAAAAAHHHHHHH GOODBYE( in English)!!!!!!", as they run out the door and down the stairs.


The next day I met with my student, Christine, who will travel to Texas on August 5th to stay and learn for one year in an American high school. I wanted to take her out for ice cream in Yeghegnadzor and catch up on lost time. If you remember, this is the Malishka gem that I've referred to in the past. She's incredibly intelligent and mature. Even though I am ten years older than her, I admire her in many different ways. On our way back to the village, I remembered my conversation with the boys and decided to ask her about what it meant. As I was trying to remember the exact way that Eric had pronounced it, I ended up using the soft 'sh' that as Americans we use in pronouncing Chicago. The moment it left my mouth, I realized the misunderstanding. Together, Christine and I laughed at this very simple word that got seriously lost in translation.

A couple of days later, my gas tank (with which I cook) emptied. I called my host father Samvell to take care of business, as he so loves. A few hours later he and his friend showed up, took the tank, called the electrician about my dying refrigerator and headed into town. They returned less than an hour later and then took me over to the host family's to do laundry. I was unexpectedly and pleasantly surprised to find Siranush's mother, two sister-in-laws and their beloved family friend Shushan all sitting around the table. I had arrived just in time to be fed (which, lets be honest, is always the case). I didn't realize how much I'd missed tatik's (grandmother's) cooking. When I was living with the family she'd come over a few times a month and cook us a meal. I haven't had her cooking since probably March. She was just as excited to see me as I was her, heating up the food and setting me a place at the table. She didn't sit down until I was totally situated.

Over the next two hours, I sat listening to the women laugh and trade stories. It reminded me of sitting around the table in my Nana's house in Rhode Island as a kid with my cousin, Sara. My mother and her sisters would relish in the company of one another. Sharing stories about their husbands, laughing so hard they cry, reminiscing about ridiculous times from their youth and just like the women at the table in Siranush's house forgetting for a while that they had an audience and talking about...adult subjects. It has been a long time since I sat around listening to my mother and her sisters laugh with one another. It didn't exactly make me homesick, as I simply felt grateful to be a part of a sisterhood like that once again.

It's moments like that when I forget that I am not 'one of them' and feel at home. It's moments like that, when I can see and understand why I am who I am. One of the things I appreciate most about being in Armenia is the very different colored lenses through which I am able to reflect on my life. In general, I am very introspective and reflect on all things that occur in my life, good or bad. I try to understand them fully and intricately. Often times I will be in the midst of a moment or experience here and suddenly memories will come to me, things that I have not thought about in forever. Not that they'd been forgotten, but that they had gotten lost in the mix of things. Generally, they are positive memories. Almost always the thought following the memory is something along the lines of, "God, at that point in time, I would have never imagined my life where it is today. At this table, with these women, in this language, and me - 26 years old. Ha. Weird."

I will continue with my unplug as planned until the 1st of August. Now that the bulk of the grant report work is finished I can sit back and relax. I picked up one of my favorite books, Forever by Pete Hamill, at the Peace Corps Office so I have something to occupy my time with. Some of you should expect letters in the mail, as I have been writing more of those than usual.

Alright my babies, back into my bubble I go. Tell yourself I said, "hi". Then, go buy a nice bottle of dry Sauvignon Blanc and drink it on my behalf. Stare at the stars and moon, and know I do the same every night.


Lovers youse

p.s. Can you (Phil, Crystal, Mom, Dad) give my baby Soleil a kiss for me? Tell her I miss her to death.

Border2Border Part III: How Do You Say Hostess In Armenian?

That is the question I asked my host mother Siranush, as I continued to kill time at her house - hiding from my guests. I am lucky to have someone like her, because nearly 100% of the time our natural ability to understand and communicate with one another always leads to the word I am seeking. Our conversation went something like this:

"Carol-jan, are you hungry?"
"Yes, very much so."
"Sit down, I made your favorite."
"I love you Siranush."
"Oh, Carol."
"So, I have all these people at the house right now. What does that make me?"
"I don't understand you."
"Ok, I have guests, right? So then, I am...what?"
"Carol, I don't understand."
"Ok, ok. When you have children you are a mother, when you have guests you are..."
"A hostess! Hahaha, oh Carol-jan."
"Yes! This word! I am a bad hostess."
"Ha, carol, carol, carol. Why are you bad?"
"Because, I am always trying to leave the house."
"Ahhh, whatever. Sit, relax, eat your lunch and take your time. Let them work in your garden for five days - who cares? Come here everyday."
"Yeah, I probably will."

Brotherhood (Malishka)

   The morning of June 20th, I departed from Sisian and soon arrived in Malishka. Once home, I realized my landlord had turned my water off. I called him, he said he would be over in an hour...that turned into four. Meanwhile I walked in circles around the house, throwing away the food that went bad in the refrigerator because it had turned itself off at some point.  I was smart enough to leave myself some eggs, but didn't have much of an appetite. I decided to finally do some redecorating in my living room, pulling out letters, postcards and pictures. I thought I would make something pretty in my free time before the group's arrival.

The next morning was pretty rainy and cloudy. I was happy to be in my house, and not out there battling the forces of nature. Without much thought I sent a text message to Lauren, letting her know that if the group wanted they could come a day early. I was thinking that two nights with everyone was 100% doable. A little later she called me, and asked that I check weather. It was around 10 a.m. and they hadn't yet moved from the so-called shelter of an abandoned building they sought the night before. The forecast wasn't' looking too good for the next day and a half. I jokingly mentioned that it was going to be 80's in Malishka the next day. I told Lauren to let me know what they were going to decide. About a half an hour later I got a phone, explaining that while they 'weren't proud' everyone wanted to come to 'Florida'. ( I secretly believe that their missing of me was too much to bear, and the weather a convenient excuse).

Do you not realize I have a knife in my hand?

I called my host father, Samvell, to help me figure out how to get taxis to the middle of nowhere and back to Malishka. Without a moment's hesitation he decided that together we would go rescue my friends from the rain. A little while later we were on our way with another car in tow. They turned out to be an hours drive from my house. Once we picked them up, we stopped in the town of Vayk (where two new volunteers are bound in August!) to grab food stuffs.

Meg is a boss.

Kevin plays human knot with my babes!

Once in Malishka, I promptly began politely barking rules. No shoes in the house; wear these shoes in the out house, smoke outside, smoke outside and use this ashtray, no luggage/clothes/dirty socks/
basicallyanythingbutmyshitandyoursleepingbags in the living/bedroom; if you cook you don't clean; if you're not cooking or helping to prepare the meal you better be doing something useful; we do not fall asleep with the t.v. on; limit your peanut butter intake; morning voices until I say; there's organic and non organic trash- do not confuse them; this is the pee bucket- do not cook with it...and so on and so forth.

First dinner on the 'patio'.

After everyone was fed and beveraged, I took off for my host family's house. They'd told me a letter had arrived while I was gone. I love receiving letters and it was a convenient excuse to escape. I told everyone I would be gone for 30 minutes, I returned 3 hours later. At my family's I caught up, told them how I wanted to prepare for B2B in Malishka. Samvell and I drank his wine, and then he remembered the letter. When I looked at the return address my draw dropped. I had forgotten writing this individual at all. I crumbled up the letter and put it in my pocket. Samvell gave me a funny look, and gestured ' What the f?' I laughed, and explained I wasn't ready to see what was inside.

I had purposefully left my phone back at the house so no one could call me while I was gone. Once I waltzed back into the door, the gang was already laying down for bed. I informed them that I had a letter, grabbed a cigarette and shut the front door behind me. Afterwards, I crawled into bed with Lauren and began reciting lines from the letter. "Dear Carolyn," followed by insane laughter.

Putting the boys to work.

The next morning I woke at 5:30am and decided this was an opportune time to clean and organize all the packs, hanging the wet tents etc before anyone else got up. About two hours later Lauren and Kevin woke up and enjoyed the last of the American coffee my dear cousin Regina had sent me. We had a full beautiful day ahead of us and that afternoon Kevin, Jesse and I worked in the garden gathering berries, clearing a patio space and loads of other things. That evening we enjoyed our first meal out on the patio, then later prepared the berries to be turned into wine. I had quite the time mashing them up with my feet. When the boys and I decided to embark on the endeavor in the early afternoon, I had no idea what a long process it would actually end up being. Hopefully in a few weeks I will report that it was worth all the effort.

B2B in Malishka!

The next day, the gang left to teach in Vayk early while I stayed behind. I wanted to clean the house again, bring laundry over to my family's house and shower there as well. Once back in Malishka, the team headed to the river for some swimming and I stayed behind to begin preparing dinner. I had been looking forward to making them cookies and eggplant parmesan since the beginning of B2B. The next morning, we had the Malishka edition of Border2Border. Our Peace Corps Country Director came out for the day to watch and visit my village. We had a huge turnout and it was so awesome to see all my little babies again. I had four of my most responsible girls come and be our team teachers, and it was great to see them as well (two of whom are my host twin sisters). Afterwards, Siranush invited us all over to the house for coffee and treats, which in the end turned into a full blown meal.

From Left: Hasmik, Tsoghik, Me, Anna, Christine

It was only then that I took a big sigh of relief. My part was totally done! Now, I could just lean back, kick my feet up and watch. The next day the team in the North arrived in Yeghegnadzor. Again, I let the group go ahead as I wanted some decompression time to myself. I met them all for dinner a few hours later and was elated to see some of my closest friends for the first time in over a month! After dinner, we all grabbed some food and headed back to the house. I had switched up some of my guests, taking all my best friends from the North Team into my home. The end of their route was rough like the beginning of our route had been.

South Team and my family.

The next morning we set out for the finale. The teams taught (sans yours truly) together for the 87 kids that showed up that day. Afterwards, we had a small get together at a nearby restaurant where we watched a slideshow of all the pictures that had been taken. Everybody was pretty tired, so we all headed home to relax shortly thereafter.

I must admit, the end of B2B felt anti-climatic. I was so focused on getting things together in Malishka, and staying in one piece (peacefully) while hosting six people for a week that the 'finale' seemed sort of irrelevant. It felt like the whole shebang wasn't done until my eventual return back to site after going up to Yerevan for Site Announcement. Site Announcement is where the current trainees learn of their permanent site. All current volunteers go for the big announcement and then hang out afterwards.   It was great finding out who will be joining our little Club Yegh family come August. We are getting three new volunteers, a young man and woman, and an older woman. It'll be interesting to see the ways in which the dynamic changes...


Yay! I am done! It is done! A huge thanks from the soft part of my heart needs to go to Siranush and Samvell (my host parents, for all the favors they do with nothing asked in return), Phi ( my unwavering source of love and support),  Brian Bokhart (kisses when I ask), Meg McGinty ( Irish twin sister, agape love), Marisa Mitchell (nobullshittoughlove), David Corsar ( garden talks, dance raging, reading my mind ALWAYS),  and most importantly Andrew Rodga ( the voice I need at 5am).


And now, let normal life resume...

Border2Border Part II: Becoming A 'Family', The Decision To Stay

Part 2: Kapan to Sisian

On the 6th morning of our adventure, we set out for an expected hike approximately 30 kilometers out of Kapan. Due to some delays, it wasn't until noon time that we walked out of Kapan. As we were making our way out of the city I got an unexpected phone call from my father. It's unusual for him to call me at that time of day, so I became a little worried. My fear was soon met with expected sorrow, as I learned of a yet another family member's death. Since my arrival in Armenia last May a total of 5 people, with varying degrees of separation and blood connection, have gone from this world. While I was not close with the young woman who passed away, my father and her father are first cousins with a close relationship. Uncle Richie, as I know him - played a small role in offering help to get me through the medical portion of the application process. It's never easy to learn of someone else's sorrow and that day I spent a good portion of the trek alone, contemplating the oddities and non-coincidences in life.

This was one of our hottest walks, and I was seriously grateful that my pseudo-grandmother, Marisa,  had made sure to fill my belly before I set out that morning. As a group we decided to take a long break on the side of the road in the only shade we could find. Everyone was profusely sweating, hot, tired and exhausted within our first break. We continued on, taking another long lunch break down by a river. At some point along the way, it became obvious that we had taken the wrong road. In Armenia, this is no small defeat. Our only choice was to continue walking to insure finding water as we were running dangerously low. Around 5pm, we convened outside of a small store in an even smaller village. Everyone was done for the day, and as a group we decided our only choice to get back on track was to take taxi cabs to the place we were supposed to be at the end of the walk that day.

We found a place that looked quasi-suitable and continued to walk another mile or two until finding our camp site for the evening. After setting up the tents, the boys promptly got to making a fire over which to grill our remaining vegetables. Soon after, thanks to Uncle Tender Breath (Kevin), the fire was burning strong. We had a lot of good laughs around the fire, while being eaten alive by the bugs. With not much sleep under our belts, we set out an hour later than expected at about 8 or 8:30pm for Tatev. This was by far my favorite walk throughout the whole trip. We had tree cover and soft dirt roads for the majority of the walk. Once out of this seeming forest, we came to a small town where our most valuable team member that day- Jesse found some children to figure which road we needed to be taking. A little ways outside of this village, we made the group decision to take naps during the heat of the day.

   Afterwards, we continued the journey and soon began to see what we could only assume was Tatev off in the distance. With our destination in site, our bodies and minds began to prepare for rest. This can be a dangerous thing when you find that you don't actually know which road to take when it forks. People get cranky after walking all day, to feel that while the end is in site... there's no end in site. It was at this moment that I called my friend Brian Bokhart for some confirmation about where we were and where we were headed. He walked last year and alleviated our frustration and near hopelessness by assuring us that we were where we needed to be and would eventually reach our destination (though how much longer until than was unclear). Jesse again, sought out an Armenian to confirm the right way. It was here that we did some off-roading and took the path less beaten. All I will say is that basically no one was smiling as they entered Tatev.

Yet, once we had cold beers and fresh food in our bellies - we were all smiles and laughter. It was at this restaurant that a wide assortment of inside jokes were born. We became our little family; with Uncles Cool Jesse and Tender Breath, the Irish Twins, the Middle Sister, and the Big/Little Sister. Apparently, we don't have parents. We were even more elated to be informed that it was no problem that we sleep on the grounds of the Tatev Monastery, one of the most important monument/tourist attractions in the country. That night, I fell asleep under a star saturated sky. In the morning we taught at the local school. Afterwards we bought some goods from the vendors and loaded the longest cable car in the world. The trip itself lasts around 12 minutes. We got to see the road we were avoiding walking, and an abandoned monastery that had been totally taken over by various greens. The walk to our next generation was very short and along the way, the group was met by some very enthusiastic Armenians that wanted a picture with us. (Because of a perhaps somber mood, I was not with everyone when this occurred but watched with entertainment at the event from down the road). We arrived in our teammate Branwen's village of Shinohayer sometime in the afternoon. The group promptly split up to pick up goods for dinner.

That evening our final team member, Meewa, joined us at Branwen's apartment. She was meant to be my replacement, as I had intended to finish my stint with the group at the next location, in Goris. It was in Shinohayer that I began to seriously consider staying. The team was so bonded and I had nothing except free time waiting for me back in Malishka. I knew that our most strenuous walk was coming up right after Goris. Also, the fact that I could lay low during teaching days now that Meewa had replaced me was also pretty appealing. With this in mind, we went over to Branwen's school in the late morning to teach the kids. Afterwards, we went back to her place for more time. That night I spoke to my family for the first time since being on the trip. It was then that I realized I wanted to stay on with the team. I was really enjoying my time with everyone and felt like I was quitting before the big game. I am a team player until the end.

The next morning we set out early for Goris, expecting a much longer walk than the one that was had. I checked in with our team captain and my sitemate, Lauren, about staying on with the group. I  consulted everyone else on the team, making sure that I was still welcome. Knowing me and my big personality - I wanted to make sure that no one was sick of me yet, before inviting myself to continue on.  Luckily, they claimed not to be and so it was settled - I was going to stay on for three extra days. This way, I have four days to prepare for the teams arrival in Malishka.

That afternoon we arrived in Goris. It was decided that the schedule would be changed and we would only be in town for one night, not two. We taught that same afternoon, and slept in the teacher's lounge that evening. Everyone was mentally preparing for the 27 kilometer walk that we had ahead of us. Unfortunately that night I didn't sleep very well - which I suppose is true for the majority of the trip. In particular though, I remember this night. It was rather inconvenient. At 6am, the taxis which would take all but two packs arrived at the school. By 6:45am we were out the door, hoping to hack off a good chunk of the walk before the heat of the day.

That day we walked ten hours in the blistering sun. I got a sun rash on my arms and legs, that faded over night but was uncomfortable. During the walk, we ran into a small grandmother who offered us cold water and coffee. It turned out that she was one of Lauren's University student's grandmother. At this point, we were a solid 3 hour ride from the University where Lauren works. It was a nice coincidence, a moment along the road that breaks things up and helps you keep going. Another nice breaking up of the walk occurred when we ran into a large cattle of sheep, their herders, horses and large cattle dogs.  We walked with them for some time and then eventually sat down for a lunch break. A little while later, that herd and ran into one another around us. One herd on the the road, the other to our backs in the field. The dogs were going absolutely nuts, the sheep where bah-ing their damn heads off and as if on cue an convoy of army trucks filled with soldiers drove past, blaring their horns at the herd. Once this scene out of a bad movie passed, we all promptly fell asleep on the side of road, under the hot sun.

By the time we made it outside of Sisian, I was lasting on pure will power alone. I was in some sort of yogic trance for the last hour as I focused on lengthening my spine and rolling back my shoulders. I was concentrating on my gait as if my life depended upon, because if I thought about how hot, thirsty and achey I was, I knew I was done for the day. Finally, the team made it to the Basen Hotel in Sisian. There we took pictures of our disgusting feet, had the best tasting meal in days and went to sleep shortly thereafter. For the first time since Kapan, I was able to lounge both during and after my shower in a state of utter exhaustion.

The next day we had our very first rest day with no walking or teaching on the agenda. We took advantage of this state of affairs and headed to a nearby lake with our favorite game, Bananagrams, some cold beverages and good humor. We hung out for the afternoon, swimming, trying to fix our horrid tan lines and playing the game. That evening everyone did their own thing, with Meg and Lauren back at Lauren's place and Kevin and I grabbing a hot dinner at a nearby restaurant. The next morning we taught at School No. 3 in Sisian, with a relatively good turnout thanks to Lauren, Meg and Meg's friend Hasmik. That evening I made dinner for the gang at Meg's and we headed back to the hotel. In the morning, I didn't have a chance to say goodbye to everyone as the taxi came even earlier than the planned 8am arrival. With an empty stomach and a craving for coffee, I left the team behind to carry on their merry way.

I admit, the silence and sudden lack of movement in the day was not an easy adjustment. I slept for most of the afternoon, checked some emails and sent a text or two to the team to see how they were doing. I missed them and almost wished I was still with them, except for the great calm that had come over me since returning back into my little oasis. Little did I know that our eventual reunion was short coming...

Border2Border Part I: Hitting The Road to Kapan

Note: Due to the fact that there is SO much to say, I have decided to split the post into three parts. This is the beginning.

Babies! Lovas! Oh, how I have missed thee! I must admit, most of you were not on my mind throughout the last month, as Border2Border literally took over my life. Although, there was one person on my mind the whole time. My walk was dedicated to my dear, life long friend Kaitlin. At the moment she is facing her own challenges with great strength and courage. Throughout the walk I was wearing the necklace that she made for me prior to leaving for Armenia. Every time that the I wanted to stop, that I thought I couldn't take another step, I reached for the beads around my neck and carried on. I made it through the walk and then some; I know she will do the same. I love you, babygirl.


   So anyway, we last left off with me a mild nervous wreck, butterflies in stomach as I awaited the arrival of the girls. Together we rode six hours south, arriving in Meghri around dinner time. The car ride was beautiful and once in our final destination the temperature difference was apparent. It was as though we left late Spring and entered full blown Summer. My dear friend, David, was gracious enough to open his home up to my teammates and I. We were at his 'Summer House' for two nights preparing for the walk ahead. David participated in Border2Border as well, but walked in the North. We had our final showers, hot meals and rest before gearing up for the three week walk ahead of us. On the final evening in Meghri, my anxiety levels were at an uncomfortable level, so I did the right thing- and began my yoga practice. David's home has a second story balcony/porch that overlooks the mountainside, facing west. As the sun burned itself into evening, I flowed like I haven't in months. I feel it was David's existing energy in the house that facilitated such a practice. I love you too, babyboy.

      Alright, there is one more shout-out to get through before I get to the walk itself. Next is my dear Aunt Therese. Before leaving for Armenia she took me out to a nice lunch and then insisted we shop around. She wanted me to pick out something that would without a doubt become handy. We entered this quaint, overcrowded shop full of pretty little hand made things. It took me all of 5 minutes to find the glass case of mahogany dyed leather bound journals, and all but 30 seconds to know which one I wanted.

This little guy kept me sane throughout the walk. You're a doll Auntie Therese, I lover you!

      On the morning of June 7th after a sleepless night, we set out for our first teaching site in Shvanidzor. Due to Iranian border restrictions we were unable to walk this length of the route. It was surreal driving along the fence that separates the two countries, as a place that was once only a name on the television became a mountain-scape before my eyes. Once in Shvanidzor, Tom Cyrs helped set us up with the school. Our first day of teaching was a great success and around noon we headed out with six students for the hike ahead.

       For the next 6 hours we walked at a relatively steep incline for 17 kilometers (10 miles), heavy packs weighing us down. This walk was, at least for me, the most difficult of all. Most of the time I was with Meg and her dog Mia. At one point we felt totally alone and decided this was a good opportunity to play the screaming game. The point is to see who can yell the most powerfully. We were enjoying this challenge, until a group of roadside workers came scrambling along the road. They thought we were being murdered; we explained we were weird Americans playing a game. They then invited us to a 'chill' spot where we could rest and drink some water. We naively assumed it was a legitimate establishment, but it really just ended up being their truck and a blanket. We got our water bottles filled and got out of there.
      Just at the point of exhaustion, we made it to our destination for the evening. We stayed in the 'dacha' (Russian for summer home), of a previous volunteer's family. A little old lady who lived up on a hill had been awaiting our arrival all day. She  served us tea, bread and cheese before we all passed out for the evening around 8pm. The next morning we got an early start around 7:30. It wasn't until 3pm that the estimated 23 kilometers (14 miles) had been walked. The only problem was, we were in the middle of nowhere and not the village of Tsav. After everyone got a turn at the map, it was clear that we had been marked to the river Tsav, not the village. There were another 3 miles to go. Nobody was happy about this turn of events.

      Once in Tsav, our spirits were lifted by the hospitality that awaited us there. We were welcomed by the Mayor and a woman associated with the school we would be teaching at the next day. The school's neighbor saw our arrival and decided to feed us. She brought us jarred sauce, fresh cheese, greens, mashed potatoes and bread. That night we slept on the floor of the school's gym. In the morning we woke to teach the kids. One little baby, Tigran, became my new best friend. This sweet little four year old hung out with me all day as I taught, took pictures and did whatever tasks needed doing.

After teaching, Kevin arranged for a bus to take us about 10 kilometers outside our next destination, the city of Kapan. During the downhill we kept focused on the cold beers, hot pizza and the showers that awaited us. There are three volunteers in the city, one of whom happens to be a close friend of mine. Marisa is the 65 year old version of me. She says what she wants, how she wants, and pulls no punches. What most people don't realize is that she is as authentic and loyal as it gets. Once she loves, you're in forever and stay that way. I am lucky enough to be one of those on the inner circle and got to have a nice bed all to myself while some of my other teammates remained on the floor with another volunteer. I practically collapsed onto her floor when I arrived at her apartment. While the first walk was the hardest, after this third day of strain my body knew it could shut down and sort of did so. It was close to 45 minutes until I could move myself to the bathroom for an hour long shower. 

    The next day we taught in Kapan at the American Corners. After another night of luxury, we had a short walk to the nearby town of Syunik. There we were greeted by singing children, a traditionally braided bread with dipping salt, and our most hospitable director of all the sites combined. This man was jovial, charismatic, and welcoming. It was our biggest turnout yet, and the first time we got to do the environmental bottle project ( empty plastic bottles used to create plant pots).

   As we were leaving the school to head back towards Kapan, a woman and her two daughters invited us back to their house for lunch. This is very common in Armenian culture. They have this incredible ability to go from a normal average day, to the most amazing hosts you could imagine. They don't begrudge the lack of notice and take great pride in the hot food and strong drinks put on the table. We had a wonderful lunch with this family, and left with a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of homemade. To say the least our spirits were soaring high on our way out of Kapan. 

In my mind, this is part one of the trip. It is more vivd in my mind than the middle and took a lot more out of me physically than any other part. A huge thanks to David Corsar, Marisa Mitchell, Terrance Stevenson and Tom Cyrs for making it all possible. You guys are gems :)


Memorable Quotes: 
"Your demon voice lacks a certain baritone."
"Himself."
"Bad Ju-Ju, man, bad ju-ju."
"I feel like I'm in a North Korean war camp with these goddamn rice balls." 
"It's the husband, it's always the husband." (In regards to a marathon of SVU)
"Ok, I'm not talking for an hour."
"Nooooo, crazy-pants."

Songs Listened to Repeatedly While Walking:

"New York State Mind" Billy Joel
"Let Me Talk To You" Justin Timberlake
"Bad Romance" Lady Gaga
"Heads Will Roll" Yeah Yeah Yeahs
"Jigsaw Falling Into Place" Radiohead

Border2Border

This morning I woke up at 6:30am to make sure I got those final last minute things done: Clean my water filter, throw out the garbage, wash all dishes, make the bed, eat breakfast and finish packing. Now, I have about 45 minutes until the taxi, with my two friends Lauren and Meg, will arrive at my doorstep. We have about a 10 hour ride ahead of us. Along the way, we are going to drop off teaching and promotion materials in the villages where we will stop and teach.

Tomorrow, we have the day to prepare ourselves for the journey ahead. On the morning of the 7th we will set out. I must admit that my physical and mental preparation has not been up to par (but don't tell my sitemate Lauren, who has managed this project and probably hates my lack of readiness). I have been worried about old injuries, and my all too embarrassing inability to quit smoking at the moment. I am hoping this trip will be a kick start. I seriously regret the first drags I ever took. I was a goner ever since that moment. Anyway, I will no doubt be feeling the affects of the smoke on my lungs during the trip. I know I will make it through, but it will definitely be difficult.

Yesterday, I was ever so fortunate to pick up the recently arrived package from my Mother containing many goodies and the all important sunscreen that I will be wearing. Now, I know you all know how I love my tans, BUT I DO WEAR SUNSCREEN, DANGIT! That being said, yesterday was also an inspiring day as I met a couple, their son and their adult friend from Slovenia. Their English was far better than their Russian, so I was able to help them (with the help of my other site mate Ed) get set up at a bed and breakfast, and lunch at our favorite local cafe. I really enjoy meeting people in this way. It's moments like these, sharing a beer with strangers that are so normal and understanding, just so damn human- that make me understand why a lot of folks get bit by the traveling bug. There is nothing that can match this experience. I can't say that I have been bit yet. I still yearn for the familiarity of home. I definitely see myself heading to new countries throughout my life. (Yet another reason to put off kids and the whole bit). Just one unexpected moment, that turned into an hour long conversation is so invigorating. Also, I'm pretty lucky in that English is THE international language. I have yet to meet a foreigner here in Armenia who was not close to fluent. BLOWS MY MIND EVERY TIME!

Alrighty then, I need to wrap up this post as the two cups of coffee and butterflies are making me feel insanely jittery, and like I am forgetting to do something! Wish me luck! I look forward to updating upon my return!


Quote of The Week: "170 kilometers, eh? Manageable, not so bad at all. Just pack light."

1 Year Mark (...or... Mid-Service Crisis)

Last Saturday was the one year anniversary of my arrival in Armenia. Several friends posted something on Facebook, whether it was a shout out or a "I should have something to say but I don't" sort of post, most of us take a long (or brief) look over our shoulders that day. Quite honestly, I have completely forgotten how I felt on that particular day. I know that there were several days leading up to the 25th of May that I thought "I should be thinking about this", and then would worry about something else. There has been so much going on the in the last month, and upcoming in the month of June, that my thoughts are all over the place.

There are some things that I need to catch you all up on. Where did we leave off? Oh right, my birthday (which was exactly what it needed to be thanks to a few good friends and a quick but strong rain storm). During the month of May, school was not exactly in session. Every week there was one or two holidays, and some of them consecutive. I think I went to school a total of 10 times in the month of May (possibly less). I had the honor of creating some final exams, about which my counterpart was very excited to print out papers to all the children.

The weekend before the last week of school my dear friend Brian, held a 5k at his site. Several volunteers went down to support him. I travelled there on a marshutni (bus) with my site-mate and friend Lauren, our friend Meg and her new puppy Mia, as well as Meg's site-mate (and my friend) Branwen and my friend Phi's site-mate Kelsey. We went to the bus station early, and luckily got the last seats on the bus. We were chatting a bit before the bus left and more or less got told to shut up by another passenger. We then confirmed she had indeed shushed us, and continued talking. I was lucky enough to sit next to puppy Mia and she very cutely slept and nuzzled between Meg and I on the hour long ride. We were all staying at the Sport's School where Brian works, so it was like one big sleepover.

That night we ate and played some games. I got to play basketball for a little while, which brought back a lot of memories from my childhood. It inspired me to dream up a future bacherlorette weekend with my girlfriends from home that will include a game of 5v5. The next morning we all prepared to run the 5k, and helped the kids decorate their numbers. They were so excited to run, and most showed up close to two hours in advance. After the race, Meg, Mia, Lauren and I rushed back to the capitol to run some errands and wait for the arrival of my expected cats. Unfortunately, the volunteer who I was adopting them from did not manage to convince her Armenian friend to hand over the Mama cat, and arrived only with the son. This 1 year old was non too happy about the arrangement and cried for 90 minutes of our taxi ride back to site. Once home, I let him out of the cat carrier and promptly prepared food and a litter box in my kitchen. He promptly hid under the fridge. About three hours later, before bed I made sure that he was safely out from underneath the fridge and laid down for the night. Around 2am I awoke to relieve myself and went to check on Stringer Bell's status. After a few minutes of no response, I turned on the light for a better look. He was nowhere to be found! It was then that I noticed the petals from the flower on the windowsill scattered on the floor. Low and behold, he had pried open the window with his paws. Since the great escape, there have been two sightings of Stringer Bell. The first, by my neighbor and student Tigran, next me about a week ago. I called to him, but it seems he has chosen the life of a kitty on the run. Thus is life.

In Armenia there is the tradition of 'Last Bell' on the final day of school. It is treated as graduation for the seniors, but considered a communal holiday. I arrived to school around 9:30 and waited in teacher's lounge with my colleagues for the festivities to begin. Mother's of the 12th grade brought champagne, fruits and a large cake into the teacher's lounge. Then, all 15 of the seniors lined up inside the room and waited for the arrival and the Mayor and his sidekick. Both gave congratulatory speeches around 3 minutes long. Afterwards, we popped the bubbly and dug in. I must say that I really enjoy watching everyone during these events. I find it particularly entertaining taking notices of the similarities and differences in human behavior in different cultures. It tickles my fancy to realize that no matter where you are, someone will be sneaking extra drinks. About 15 minutes later, we all went down the the auditorium to watch the performance of the 12th graders. Each year, the students and their homeroom teacher do something different. Generally, it includes dancing and songs, as well as some comedy. I am really looking forward to next year's as I have closer relationships with some of the girls in that year, and their homeroom teacher is quite ... interesting.

Since the school year is over, I have been trying to prepare for a lazy summer. One afternoon was spent scything overgrown weeds in a section of my garden and setting up metal boxes to lay out and get a tan. I like this place a lot, because I feel hidden from everyone and can let a little more skin show. It's also soothing to listen to the constant chatter of various bird species occupying the trees.  I also got to visit Brian one last time before he leaves the country in July.  He invited me to lead a yoga class at the sport's school during his fitness class time. We got to spend some time at his Music School, where I sang like the raspy lounge singer I've always dreamed of becoming. This weekend, I helped my other sitemate, Elisabeth clean up and move out of her house for the summer. Her landlord is returning, and she won't have a place to live again until end of August / September. At the moment, she is homeless.

Whew!

In four days I will begin the Border2Border project with five other volunteers in the South of Armenia. Simultaneously, another group of 6 will begin in the North Region. Both groups will walk for twenty one days and meet up in the middle, which just so happens to also conveniently be my site! I chose to walk for only 10 days, and I am glad I made this decision. Not only for physical reasons, but because that is as many days as I can stand to be constantly surrounded by other people. Before we leave, I will finish up the grant report for the National Poetry Contest, and complete my VRF (Volunteer Reporting Form) which is required every quarter, and very much loathed by all volunteers.

In other news, I finally gave in and bought an electric beater to satisfy my high standard for chocolate chip cookies and other baked goods. I also picked up ice cube trays (yay, iced coffee!), a new neon green colander and a well over-due welcome mat.  Also, my friend Phi and I have begun planning our COS (Close of Service) trip to India, Nepal and Tibet. I am so ecstatic about this adventure! And lastly, but by no means least, my brother and his girlfriend recently got engaged! They have asked me to officiate the wedding next late summer / early fall.  I told them I would accept this offer if they allowed me to wear a crown during the ceremony. In the meantime, I have been spending a lot of time looking for the perfect dress.

Ok kiddos, that's all for me right now. I'm sorry my posts haven't been to enlightening or thought provoking these days. I swear, once B2B is done - I will once again begin pontificating.


Quotes Of The Month: "DUDE, you just ate my bad ju-ju nut!"
"And then I realized, I ...live...in...Armenia." (one year later)

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